


All This And Heaven Too

by cerie



Series: Altars [2]
Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-26
Updated: 2011-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-28 03:54:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/303457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerie/pseuds/cerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to the AU fic "I'm Not Here Looking For Absolution."  This is complete fluff, Helen/Will established relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All This And Heaven Too

Eight hours of being called “Margaret” had started to grate and by the time Helen headed home on December 24th, it was with the knowledge that she wouldn’t have to be back at the library until after the new year. Two glorious weeks of vacation and the snow hadn’t quite gotten to her neck yet so Helen considered it a win even if she had forgotten what it felt like to be called by her actual name.

They’d assured her in the exit counseling that eventually her identity would become second nature and if she’d employed her new name everywhere, she’d eventually forget her old one. It...hadn’t exactly worked. With Ashley, it was fine. Ashley still called her Mom, of course, and she’d grown used to calling Ashley “Alana,” which allegedly was what she preferred. Helen still thought it sounded insane but, hey, when in Rome.

Will was more difficult by far, mostly because she spent long nights listening to him over the phone, his voice low and heavy against her ear while she touched herself and whenever _he_ called her name, it was Helen, not Margaret. It was never Margaret with Will. Helen bit her lip and closed her eyes to banish those memories and focused instead on the crisp wind and the snow sticking to her eyelashes.

The walk from the library back to her little house wasn’t very far and it was just long enough for her to get warmed up from the exercise and make the cold feel a bit less biting. The winters in Maine were much worse than what she was used to in Seattle and she longed for the milder weather, the rain, the break in the snow. It was all snow in Maine and while it was clean and pure, there was quite a bit of it and it had started to become more a hassle than a beautiful winter tableau.

Since the trouble with John and the trial, Helen had gotten into the habit of checking her surroundings before entering her home. Will had instilled that in her, knowing exactly where she was in relation to everything else, knowing how she’d left her house or car so she couldn’t get caught off guard. She hadn’t left the gate undone when she left that morning and she certainly hadn’t left the light on. Helen’s hand squeezed around her house key, the blade digging into her palm.

 _No need to panic, Helen. Remember what Will taught you. Remember how to notice things._

Taking a few calming breaths, she went around the side of the house instead of entering the front door and saw a plain car in the driveway next to her own. Rental, it looked like, judging from the paperwork in the window and the little company sticker on the back right. That told her next to nothing other than the person who was here was either from out of town, didn’t want to be tracked or both.

There was a trellis along the side of the house that Helen had roses growing on during the summer but now, during the dead of winter, it was the closest thing she had to a ladder. Maybe if she climbed it, she could get into her upstairs window and to her phone (damn, having left her mobile at home today of _all_ days) and could call the police or Will or possibly both. Having a boyfriend who was both in the FBI and lived three thousand miles away was a blessing and a curse because all Helen wanted was for _Will_ to be there and clear the house so she’d feel safe going in. As it was, she had to hope her phone was charged and the police would be quick. Oh, and that her houseguest didn’t realize she’d climbed into the upstairs window.

She shimmied halfway up the trellis before the ice gave her pause and one of her feet slipped slightly. She nearly fell before catching herself and Helen muttered a low, quick curse under her breath before trying again with the upward climb. It wasn’t graceful, by any means, but she was very nearly within reach of the upstairs window when a voice startled her and she fell, hitting the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of her.

When she came to, she was seeing double of, well, damn near everything but it looked like Will’s face hovering over hers. His eyes, certainly, and the smell of cologne (she’d given it to him for his birthday and he’d called and said he’d worn it every day since then). They hadn’t spent any time in person in so long that she’d forgotten the crease of his mouth when he frowned and the furrow of his brow and they were hard to make out when she was dizzy and felt sick but she thought, she hoped, she really prayed it was Will.

“Shit, Helen. Why in the world were you climbing the trellis anyway?” Will had lifted her slightly and moved her to sit up, his hand brushing lightly at the back of her head. It wasn’t the best way to start a holiday, least of all one where she was actually getting to see her long-distance boyfriend in person. Damn. Concussions were never pleasant and especially not now.

“I was checking the perimeter like you taught me to and everything was off so I thought I’d climb the trellis into my bedroom to get my mobile. I left it at home today,” she admitted, sheepish, and Will snorted a little. She narrowed her eyes at him, annoyed, but was grateful when he wrapped his arm around her to escort her into the house. She wasn’t sure how he’d gotten in, exactly, since he didn’t have a key but Helen vaguely remembered having told him about the spare key under the flowerpot on the front step. Of course Will would remember that. His memory was very nearly eidetic.

“Why in the world are you in my house anyway?” she asked, watching him warily while he went to her freezer and got out an ice pack. She kept them around for the usual sorts of injuries and she was grateful that they were still applicable for falling on your arse in the snow sorts of injuries as well. It was nice, in a way, to come home to warm house with something cooking on the stove and a general since of _home_ , she never got that usually, and she wondered what it’d be like if she and Will lived together. Perhaps the novelty would fade away.

“It’s Christmas. I thought I’d surprise you, especially since you said Ashley wasn’t coming home. Of course, I didn’t figure I’d be nursing a concussion and I was kind of banking on having you naked in, oh, two point five seconds but I can improvise. It’s not like I just missed your body anyway. I missed everything.”

Helen smiled, a bit watery, and she just couldn’t keep the laugh from welling up. Of all the reunions she’d thought about having with Will, this wasn’t it, and she wanted to kick herself for ruining it. Still, he didn’t seem too plussed about it and he clearly must have had a little while to stay if he’d gone and rented a car so she leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth.

“Ah, well. Nurse me back to health and I’ll try to employ my breaking and entering skills into something that will prove more useful to your love life.”

Will smirked and shook his head. “Nuh uh. You see, you’re injured and clearly incapable of taking care of yourself, so I’m really just going to have to stay longer. I might even have to call my boss and actually resign and everything.”

They’d talked about it, once or twice, and Helen had told him that under no uncertain terms did she want him ever to sacrifice his career for their relationship. He wasn’t allowed to see her often and it was never sanctioned but she would rather have him happy over the phone than miserable living with her and she’d thought Will agreed. But now, it seemed, he was in her kitchen and he was keeping something from her, a Cheshire grin spreading across his face. Dear God.

“Please tell me you’ve not gone and done anything rash, Will? Please?”

He shook his head. “Rash? Me? Never. I just uh...I’m going to teach now. At University of Maine. I was going to tell you but I didn’t get hired until spring semester, so I thought I’d just surprise you. We can see how well that worked out. Really sorry about the concussion, Helen. Really.”

Helen shrugged and laughed, unable to keep from being damned near giddy about this particular turn of events. “Ah, no, I think it’s fitting our relationship continues to be plagued by bodily injury and faux pas on my part. It only suits how ill-suited we really are for one another.” She stood, only slightly shaky now, and offered him her hand.

“Come, let’s tuck me in and resume where we began, shall we? I have an awful lot of missed time to make up for.”

If Will was put out about his abysmal prospects for sex he didn’t show it and Helen thought that, perhaps, it was better this way. She did always like a nice cuddle and talk on a cold winter’s night and with the way her head was throbbing, that’s all it’d be.

“Love to,” Will whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Merry Christmas, Helen.”

Merry Christmas indeed.


End file.
